


Drunk Me

by Hazzaandloubearforever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little bit of angst, M/M, Mpreg, mpreg natural birth, shmoop-eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzaandloubearforever/pseuds/Hazzaandloubearforever
Summary: Castiel had chosen to walk out of the Winchesters’ lives four months ago and Dean had waited up for the angel ever since. He’d sleep every few hours or so but always found himself startling awake in hopes that Castiel had returned. Sam knew his brother had fallen into a deep depression, but of course Dean refused to acknowledge it. The night Castiel left, he slipped out unnoticed, no note or message; just gone. Dean had been confused, not understanding why the love of his life would leave without a trace.





	Drunk Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi peoples!
> 
> I'm back with another fic. I'm slowly discovering all these stories I wrote in my notebooks and transferring them to Google docs so I can get them edited and updated on AO3. 
> 
> Just a little disclaimer about this fic: This is loosely based on Season 9, Episode 6. I know Castiel's powers as an angel should make this pregnancy a bit different but it's my fic and I dictate how I want it to go :D This story is also based on the song 'Drunk Me' by Mitchell Tenpenny. If you haven't heard this song, I highly suggest you take a listen. It is currently my favorite song at the moment. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome! (:

“You’ve got to get some sleep, Dean,” Sam sighed when he found his brother nursing a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Though, Sam suspected the cup of coffee contained more than just Folgers. It was almost three in the morning and Sam knew Dean hadn’t slept since Castiel left.

“I’m fine,” Dean answered gruffly. “Why are you up?”

“Because you’re up.”

“That’s a lame excuse.”

Sam sighed and went to make a fresh pot of coffee, dumping the old grounds into the trash and filling the pot with water. “He’s not coming back, Dean,” Sam finally said, adding fresh grounds into the filter. 

Dean’s eyes sparked with malice before he slammed his mug against the table, the liquid sloshing around the edges as Dean rose from the table and slammed his brother against the nearest wall, items on the counter jostling from the force.

“I know he’s not coming back!” Dean hissed, his forearm pressed to his brother’s throat. “You don’t have to fucking remind me.”

Sam clawed at Dean’s neck until his brother released him, heaving gulps of air. “I know it’s a sensitive subject--

\--then why bring it up?” he spat.

Castiel had chosen to walk out of the Winchesters’ lives four months ago and Dean had waited up for the angel ever since. He’d sleep every few hours or so but always found himself startling awake in hopes that Castiel had returned. Sam knew his brother had fallen into a deep depression, but of course Dean refused to acknowledge it. The night Castiel left, he slipped out unnoticed, no note or message; just gone. Dean had been confused, not understanding why the love of his life would leave without a trace.

“Because if your mind’s not right, you could get killed.”

Dean didn’t want to admit that his younger brother had a point. Leave it to Sammy to be the reasonable and sensical of the two. Day in and day out all Dean thought about was Castiel and the dozens of scenarios and reasons as to why the angel up and left so suddenly. Was he alright? Was he safe? Was he even _alive_?

“He should have never left.”

“It was his decision, Dean.”

“M-Maybe if I…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Dean, you don’t know what’s going through his head,” Sam tried. 

The fucked up thing was that Sam _knew_ what was going through Castiel’s head and his reason for leaving. When the angel first approached him with the unsuspecting news, Sam immediately suggested that Castiel tell Dean but the angel made the Winchester brother swear he wouldn’t tell a soul. Despite how desperate Sam wanted to tell his brother why Castiel left--perhaps it would ease some of the hurt Dean was feeling--he promised Castiel he wouldn’t utter a word and that was that. Though, if Sam knew just how deep of a depression Dean would have put himself into after his lover left, he would never agreed to keep the secret.

Dean sighed and returned to the table, sipping at his spiked coffee as he glared at one of the cracks on the surface. “He should have said something. If he didn’t want to be with me, he could have just said that.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t like that,” Sam tried, cautious of his wording so he wouldn’t end up in hot water.

Dean didn’t comment in favor of walking over to the liquor cabinet and found his half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s and poured it into his mug.

“Dean--” Sam tried.

“Shut it. I don’t want a lecture about my drinking habits.”

Sam pursed his lips and nodded, resting his hand on Dean’s shoulder for a moment before retreating back to his bedroom. Dean tapped his fingers idly on the mug, trying to rack his brain for a plethora of reasons as to why his boyfriend suddenly left. He couldn’t fathom the idea that the angels who wanted Castiel dead had caught up to him and did what they were sent to do. Castiel had left everything; his clothes, his phone, even the necklace Dean had gifted him on their one year anniversary.

*A few weeks later*

In the course of eight weeks, Dean’s depression and alcoholism only seemed to worsen. Each day that passed and Castiel remained in the wind, the more intoxicated the eldest Winchester brother became. Sam worried for Dean. The last case they had been on, there were a handful of slip-ups; the majority of them made by Dean. The more imperative ones nearly cost Dean his life and Sam began to believe his older brother was inconspicuously giving up on life. Sam even tried to locate Castiel to inform the angel of his ex-lover’s--if that’s what Dean was to him now--toxic self-destruction but even Castiel refused to tell Sam where he was going. The angel didn’t even know, made the comment that he’d “figure it out” and that “this was something he had to do on his own.” In Castiel’s eyes it was the only to protect he and the Winchesters from impending danger. 

Sam had found a string of killings in Rexford, Idaho that seemed just shy off normal and the younger Winchester found it as their saving grace in hopes to get Dean out of inner turmoil. Perhaps this job would be less life-threatening than the previous ones since the police reports and news articles said they mimicked something of mercy killings and miracles.

Sam grabbed his laptop and carried it down the hall to Dean’s room, knocking twice before entering. Sam was relieved to find Dean asleep instead of drinking himself into oblivion but his heart cracked at the sight of his brother fisting the cross necklace Dean had given Castiel on their first anniversary. Sam remembered how Castiel’s eyes lit up at the gift and Dean making a snarky remark that just because he gave his boyfriend something for their anniversary, let alone remembered the date, it didn’t make him any less of a man. 

With the small memory, a smile graced Sam’s lips before it dropped just as quickly. He desperately wanted to tell his brother the reason for Castiel’s leaving but that would only open up a world of hurt for the three of them. In time, Sam believed Castiel would return. _When_ lied the bigger question.

“Dean,” Sam called, kicking the edge of the bed to wake his brother.

Dean startled awake, bolting upright and looking up at Sam frantically. “Did he come back?”

“No, Dean, I’m sorry,” the younger of the two sighed. “Listen, I found a case. It’s in Idaho and it looks like a string of miracle or mercy killings.”

“How many times do police say the cases they’re assigned to are miracle and mercy killings? What makes this one something we’d be interested in?”

Sam quirked a brow and handed Dean the laptop. “Each killing ended with pink powder, some with eyes burned out.”

“Eyes burned out? Angels,” Dean remarked, cursing to himself. 

“Exactly.”

“You think those running Heaven have anything to do with this or do you think it’s a rogue angel?”

“I can’t be certain, but it’s worth a drive to investigate, yeah?” Sam asked, hoping Dean would agree.

Dean stared at the copper chain in his hand, thumbing the cross for a moment before he glanced up at his brother. “Alright, let’s go.”

Sam smiled wide, moreso at the fact that his brother was _finally_ leaving the bunker. “Awesome, I’ll start packing.”

***

“And there were no witnesses?” Dean asked the officer as he surveyed the scene.

The house that he and his brother were investigating was condemned with yellow police tape, the windows facing the small crowd that had gathered outside were covered in pink residue and it baffled the Winchester brothers. 

“Neighbors said they saw a bright light and then a flash of pink,” the sheriff answered, slipping on a pair of latex gloves. He handed Dean and Sam a pair as well as shoe covers. “You might wanna put these on.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before following the sheriff inside. The interior of the house was covered in the pink residue Sam and Dean had seen on the windows outside.

“Looks like someone let Pepto-Bismol explode in here,” Dean remarked.

Sam moved to one area of the small home, inconspicuously pulling out the EMF reader to check for any spirit presence.

“If this murder is anything like the other two we investigated, the pink powder is a mixture of skin, organs, fingernails, and every bodily fluid you can think of,” the sheriff explained. “You ever anything like this before, agents?”

“Not at all,” Dean answered with a sigh, looking over to Sam who shook his head when the EMF was negative. “Thank you for your time, officer. We’ll be in touch.”

Sam and Dean returned to the Impala and headed back to their motel. “None of the lore we’ve read has mentioned anything remotely related to pink dust.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Dean sighed, loosening his tie and sitting on the edge of his bed. “I still think the angels are behind this.”

“But it doesn’t seem like their style. If they wanted someone dead, they’d smite them and call it a day. They’re pretty quiet about their killings.”  
Dean grunted in response and spent the next couple hours with Sam trying to research any lore with deaths related to pink dust. Eventually, the two were baffled by their lack of findings and took a break for Chinese take-out. Sam had returned to further his research while Dean continued to stuff his face.

“I’m craving pie,” Dean said through a mouthful of low mein.

“Could you finish what’s in your mouth before you speak?” Sam requested, a grimace on his face.

Dean swallowed what was left in his mouth before speaking again. “I’m gonna go get some pie.”

“It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you ate!” Sam exclaimed with an incredulous laugh.

“Shut up.” Dean grabbed his wallet and keys and left the motel in search of pie.

At this time of night in a small city like Rexford, everything appeared closed and the further Dean drove Baby down the empty streets, he grew more and more discouraged. His hope for pie was diminishing by the second and he was ready to turn around and head back to the motel when he spotted a dimly lit convenience store just a few blocks ahead. Dean mentally exclaimed in victory and pulled into the Gas-N-Sip. Dean would be over the moon if this mom and pop store even had pie.

The little bell rang when Dean entered the store but there was no one to greet him. He could hear rustling in the back and assumed the employee was stocking shelves.

“Be right with you!” the employee called from the back before there was clattering and mumbled profanities.

Dean rolled his eyes and went about looking for his pie. The Winchester had circled the store at least twice and couldn’t find a single slice of pie. Hell, he’d even settle for a slice of cake at this point. There were suddenly muted footsteps approaching Dean from behind and he whipped around, ready to scold the employee for not having pie when his breath was stolen right from his body upon the sight of the person standing before him. 

Castiel stood awkwardly in front of his ex-lover, the apron he donned straining around his swollen middle. If Dean didn’t know Castiel’s genetic make up, he’d worry for the man as he appeared more frail than usual.

Dean spluttered for a response, eyes wide and unrelenting as he stared at Castiel’s pregnant belly. His eyes suddenly flashed to Castiel when reality came crashing down. “So, this is where you ran off to. _Idaho_ of all places.”

Castiel’s face was pink with embarrassment as he wrapped his arms around his middle as if they could suddenly hide the growing fetus inside. “Dean…”

“You fucking left,” Dean spat. “You left and you didn’t say anything! Just packed up and left in the middle of the night. A-And all because of _this_?” Dean hissed, gesturing to Castiel’s stomach. 

The angel’s eyes welled with tears and immediately dropped to his worn out Converse. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? That’s all you can say? _Sorry?_ You disappear for practically five months without a single phone call, text message, hell even a fucking email! And you avoid Sam and I like the plague because you’re _pregnant_?”

Castiel bit his lip to stop it from quivering as he tried to think of a proper explanation. “I...we...you weren’t ready to be a father.”

Dean’s eyes widened before they narrowed.

“A-And neither was I!” Castiel quickly appeased. “But then I did the math and realized that I was too far along to abort the fetus so I decided to leave and raise the child on my own.”

The amount of rage boiling inside Dean could have started a nuclear war. It wasn’t the fact that his boyfriend-ex boyfriend?-had up and left without a trace. That much Dean was slowly coming to terms with. It was the fact that the Winchester unsuspectedly stumbled across the man in question who was carrying their child and didn’t even want the unborn baby! Who was Castiel to determine that Dean wasn’t a fit parent? If it was up to Dean, _no one_ was a fit parent.

“Wait, back up, Cas,” Dean spoke, swallowing the bile in his mouth. “You were going to abort our child? Without my opinion in the matter?”

Castiel rubbed his shoulder awkwardly, doing his best to avoid Dean’s scrutinizing gaze but the stare was so steely, Castiel was struggling _not_ to look away. “Do you think it’s the best time for us to bring an infant into this world? Do you think we’re even _ready_ to be parents?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Dean boomed. “Whether you’re carrying the child or not, I’m still the baby’s other father and I have a say in their existence.”

“Dean, you don’t understand,” Castiel pleaded. “If an angel or a demon found out a child was conceived from a human and angel, it is considered an abomination, Dean. Leaving was the only way to protect you and our son.”

The mention of their child’s gender had Dean pausing his rebute. “Our son? We’re having a boy?”

Castiel couldn’t help but blush and smiled to himself as he rubbed his belly. “I’m not certain but it feels like a boy. “

Dean’s face visibly softened at Castiel’s reaction and the love he showed for his belly. The mask of anger had dissipated instantly and with his mood leveled as he finally saw how puffy Castiel’s eyes were and the way he trembled with nerves. 

“Cas…” Dean murmured, taking a step forward and cupping his cheek. “You should have never left. We could have figured this out.”

Castiel subconsciously nuzzled into Dean’s touch and peered into green orbs. “My shift ends in half an hour.”

“Can we talk when you’re off?”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile. He had missed Dean considerably and the more he stared at his ex lover, the more he regretted leaving in the first place. “I’d like that.”


End file.
